


Perception

by jfcxtommo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel fic, Fallen Angels, Fluff, M/M, Sort of friends to lovers, implied smut but no actual smut, mentions of amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jfcxtommo/pseuds/jfcxtommo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis is an angel until he's not and he begins to learn just what makes humanity worth falling for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perception

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PumpkinspiceLou (CatyDreamDwyer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatyDreamDwyer/gifts).



> This was actually my first fandom work (and as a pitch hitter no less) so thank you for all the positive feedback so far! I appreciate it. Thank you to everyone who put this on because I've had a summer of amazing fic and I'm really honored to be among them. 
> 
> Special thanks to [Letthemkissyou](http://www.tumblr.com/letthemkissyou) and [codedconstellations](http://tumblr.com/codedconstellations) for beta'ing on such short notice.

  
  


A small figure clothed in green and gold lay prostrate on the floor, starfished and touched in six specific spots. Each “day” began like this. One of the angels would feel a tug and they’d all plummet down to the microscopic origin. From there cause and effect webs would spiral and spiral until they’d woven a web clear up to their lofty positions in the sky and then the whole process would start over again. He’d lose track of how long they spent tied together but eventually the threads would be suspended while another group of seven angels rotated in and they went to deal with the regulations of their own kind for a bit before the cycle started over. It wasn’t that Camael minded, per se. He was not a rebellious soul, he’d made no allegiances and felt nothing but a vague sadness when his brothers and sisters first disobeyed and fell. Others started to fall over the years for one thing or another, but eventually Camael stopped noticing.

Which in hindsight, was probably where it all began.

By his own estimation, Camael was an entirely ordinary, obedient angel who belonged in the first ring of the second choir of the angels - affectionately referred to as the regulators. They connected the physical and spiritual realms, provided guidance and intuition, governed over the law of cause and effect, and kept heaven and earth in order. Camael had watched civilizations rise and fall as a result of their doing. And still, it’d taken millennia for him to start to question their choices. Why did A automatically lead to B? Why could it not go to C or jump down to M? Why did this one event have to lead exclusively to this other one? Camael didn’t understand. They had their orders and they knew what was supposed to happen each “day” but why. Who made those calls and to what end?

Curiosity, it seemed, was really at the root of all evil. Nobody had warned Camael that wondering lead to questions and questions lead to doubts and doubts lead to a very very long fall.

Then again, he was the angel of cause and effect.

His misstep lead to this.

#

Dozens of what felt like tiny pebbles smacking against skin finally made the young man’s eyes crack open and take in his surroundings for the first time. Mostly it was dark. So, so dark. Vaguely he registered that this was unusual, but there were the rather pressing matters of _how did he get here? where was here? And ouch, why did that red liquid hurt so badly?_ to deal with first. Slowly the former angel sat up with a subconscious wince twisting his features as pain started to filter in past the grogginess. Cold blue eyes moved over arms and legs, cataloguing the scrapes, and soon-to-be-bruises with a detached acknowledgement. He knew things without knowing how he knew them, but there was some comfort in that. Comfort he held on to as he looked past his own immediate self and into the small forest he’d apparently wandered into. To his immense displeasure he realized the tall trees and thick bushes weren’t doing much to shield him from the water, in fact, they seemed to be making it worse as the liquid ran over leaves and poured steadily on to his head. Why was there so much water? Again, the ex-angel found an odd feeling in his stomach about this not being _quite right_ but he didn’t know how to even begin to justify that.

Loud noises to his left jarred him out of such thoughts as he waited to see what was coming. Whatever he’d expected, bright beams of light shining directly into his weak eyes was not it. Quickly, he flinched away from the light purely from the discomfort, having not yet learned there was a reason to fear. Soft fabric was wrapped around his wet torso, making him turn back cautiously, peeking to see if the painful light was gone and was greeted with the sight of a large body which seemed to fold in on itself to come to his level instead.

“Hey there.”

Hay there? Was that - he waited for the vague understanding to help out, but the voice in his head remained silent, so he did as well. That didn’t seem to deter the stranger, who appeared to be a young man, easily in his twenties, as he reached out to - ow. There it was again. The former angel flinched as fingers came in contact with something that _hurt_ on his head. Why did the man keep hurting him? He drew back some but the man’s eyes focused on his own - bright green he noted absently - and were filled with a gentle kindness that again tugged at some part of him. Something about that look was familiar, and it was enough to win over his trust for now.

“Can you stand? What’s your name?”

The newcomer was chatty, he noted with some distaste, but he accepted the hand that was held out to him. It was only once his own hand was enveloped and he was gingerly guided upright that he noticed how small his hands were. It wasn’t just his hands that were small apparently, even fully upright he merely came up to eye level with the young man’s shoulders. His neck craned up after a moment, but that was a mistake. Rain in the eyes hurt, and somehow looking up made him a bit dizzy. Instantly his hand was released, and the hand that had been on his back slid down to join another one at his waist, holding him steady. The fallen angel blinked at the young man in some confusion, but felt confident enough to take a few faltering steps. It hurt, but his legs didn’t buckle, and that seemed to be the tall man’s main concern since he let go after the third step.

“I’m Harry. Will you tell me your name? Can you tell me what happened to you? Was anyone else out here?”

The former angel hesitated, looking behind him again, like there’d be some clue just dangling there, before turning back with a small shake of his head. He didn’t know. Not his name, not what happened, not where he was, and it was starting to catch up to him. The water must have poured into his eyes again, because he found he couldn’t see very well, things were getting blurry and distorted and everything was shaking. Strong hands pulled him forward, then there was something solid and warm all along his shoulders and side so he stopped questioning. He just leaned into the warmth and walked.

It’d felt like ages but it had really only taken them about ten minutes to get to Harry’s pickup truck. The former angel had been terrified but he got in anyway. He half-listened to the slow, consistent ramble coming from his right that oddly had the same cadence as the bumps in the road that would jostle his whole body up and down. Small facts he picked up from the exchange included Harry being 23, a veterinarian that specialized in farm-animal medicine, and who had then appropriately inherited a farm and a dog. The rest was lost as the ex-angel’s eyes closed and he slept until they reached their destination.

Discomfort woke him up again as he found himself shying away from fingers on his scalp, his eyes blinking rapidly to win the fight to stay awake. Instinctively, he pushed himself upright, but there was someone cupping his face as they mumbled soft things so the angel stilled.

“You’re okay, hey. You’re in my house. Remember me? I just need to finish stitching this up and you’ll be all taken care of, okay? Are you hungry? I can make you some soup or tea or something?”

The voice was familiar, he knew that voice. Knew that smell, knew that warmth - Harry. The forest. It all started to come back to him as he let the young man finish whatever he was doing that was causing so much pain. Harry pulled away after a few more minutes and the angel dropped his gaze down distracted first by the pattern and second by the warmth and softness of the fabric surrounding his legs. Curiously he ran his fingers over it and then realized the jacket was gone and there was something else similar to it but grey hanging off his chest.

“Sorry. My clothes don’t quite fit you, but I lent you some of my older pajamas. I had to roll the legs and sleeves up a bit, but you should be able to move around okay.”

The angel gave another little nod, but Harry hadn’t moved again, lingering just in front of him.

“Is there someone I can call? Can you talk? I looked but I didn’t see any damage to your throat - mostly you just looked like you were in a bad wreck. Road rash and some heavy bruising which won’t be comfortable but you didn’t break anything. I’m not entirely sure how ‘cause the fire I saw was intense but you haven’t seemed to be burned anywhere either. Are you - in some kind of trouble or something? You seem so scared. I’m not going to hurt you. Really. You can stay here for a couple days but I’d really like to call someone for you. Do you have a brother, sister, anyone? Oh, and here. Take these for the pain. Wait, you need water. Hold that thought. Do you like tea?”

The former angel felt a slight tugging at his lips he couldn't seem to control but it was gone when he swallowed and then opened his own mouth.

“I can speak.”

The sound of his own voice startled him right back into silence though. Harry’s voice was low and slow and his own was, well — much like their startling physical difference was, his voice was light and weak in comparison. There was a gentle pressure under his chin though guiding his head up and he was reluctantly calmed by the sight of green eyes full of patience and kindness.

“I do not remember,” he said finally, “What happened, where I am, who I am - I just remember fire. Then water. Then you.”

That seemed to be enough for Harry because his face changed all curved lines and white teeth, and there was something rather pleasing about the sight.

“Alright. Thank you, for telling me that much. Let me get you that tea and some food and I’ll try to fill you in as much as I can before your medicine kicks in. I’ll be right back.”

#

Tea turned out to be a warm dark liquid that was equally as pleasing as Harry’s face when it got all scrunched up. The ex-angel found he quite liked both things, though he wasn’t as fond of the gritty bowl of ‘porridge’ as Harry called it. That was gross. But Harry claimed it’d warm him up and calm his stomach, so he forced as much down as he could manage before the young man took pity on him and exchanged the bowl with another mug of beloved tea. Instantly his lips did that pull up twitchy thing again as he resettled with his back against the wall. Harry unfolded some more fabric, covering clear up to under his arms before sitting next to him and taking a deep breath.

“You're in a town a little east of Moline in Illinois. We’re a bit aways from a hospital or a police station, but I can take you to either in the morning.”

“Thank you.” He remembered finally. That’s what you’re supposed to say. “Thank you for finding me and for helping me.”

His jaw opened as his lungs worked without his consent doing something that made his eyes water before he regained control of both again.

“Right. You must be exhausted. Here, I’ll turn the light off - you can sleep here tonight. It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll come in and check on you a few times though. Gotta be careful with a head injury like that. Sweet dreams.”

Confused, the former angel watched Harry mosey around collecting dishes and fussing over the fabric before he was being asked to lie down again. It did feel surprisingly good to stretch out and _pillows_. Pillows were a thing to add to the list with tea that were just _amazing._ His eyes opened once to tell Harry as much, but it was dark and quiet so he just curled up tighter and fell asleep not at all prepared for the images waiting for him there.

#

Threads. There were dozens, no hundreds, no thousands of threads wrapping up his body, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing his lungs and heart until he was — waking up with a pained gasp and bolting upright in bed. Harry’s hands were on him again, he realized as he weakly leaned into them, trying to catch his breath. One on his cheek and one on his shoulder. It looked like it was raining again, the water blurring his vision until it slipped away down his cheeks. Gradually he felt his heart start to slow and the sound of Harry’s soothing voice slip back in.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay now. Mate, it’s - oh hey. Are you with me again?”

Slowly he nodded, though he wasn’t very keen to move just yet. Harry seemed to understand because he just shifted to sit down, allowing him to tip forward seeking the warmth only Harry seemed to have. It didn’t make any sense to the ex-angel, why a steady warm pressure around his waist and shoulders felt so good, but it seemed to be exactly what his body needed since the rain eventually stopped and he was able to catch his breath again. The arms around him loosened and he reluctantly sat himself up as Harry pulled back, once again gently wiping his cheeks and pushing his hair around.

“You okay to sleep some more or did you just wanna head to the hospital?”

Warily, he eyed the pillows before looking up to meet Harry’s gaze. “Hospital, please.”

Getting up he discovered quickly that his body was harder to move than it had just a few hours ago. Harry explained that was normal, that injuries tend to get worse before they get better, but he was not a fan. Quickly he used the bathroom, cleaning himself up the best he could, before he followed the sound of Harry’s voice to find him kneeling in the yard cooing to some four legged creature. For a moment, the creature and ex-angel had a silent standoff both staring each other down before Harry broke it by standing up and reaching a hand out to him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long. This is my dog, Dusty. Dusty meet - my new friend.”

The former angel wasn’t all too eager to step down and meet the dog but it was hard to put a damper on Harry's genuine excitement so he descended down the few steps, kneeling and allowing the dog to smell his hand. Another momentary stand-off later and the dog turned, seemingly indifferent to the former angel as he spun a few times before flopping with a sigh followed directly by a snore. Alright then.

“I made him sleepy?”

It came out as more of a question than the ex-angel had intended but the words still felt weird on his tongue.

“He sleeps more than he doesn’t these days, don’t take it personally. But come on. To the truck! Are you feeling okay? Woozy or nauseous or anything?”

“No.”

For a moment the angel felt like the dog and Harry had switched places as he found himself in another stare-off, but Harry just looped an arm around him, guiding him down the sidewalk and around the corner to where the truck had been parked the night before. It looked bigger and scarier now in the raising daylight but he climbed in when his door was opened and tried to remember how the buckling contraption worked. In the end Harry had to reach over and do it for him prompting the former angel’s cheeks to go bright red and his body to flare with an unrecognizable emotion.

“Heyyyy.”

Harry’s tone was only making that feeling worse, making his muscles tight and his breath come a little faster until Harry twisted in odd ways to try and get into the angel’s line of sight. Said ex-angel took pity on him and finally turned towards him with a slight pout.

“What.”

“It’s okay to feel frustrated. Exasperated. You’ll remember these things.”

“I thought you were not a people doctor.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes you don’t need to be, but let’s go find out your name, blue eyes.”

#

Unfortunately, the hospital held no such answers. After a full exam, some praise to Doctor Harry’s quick thinking and resourcefulness, and some medicine, they sent local law enforcement in. According to them, there had been no reports of missing persons matching his descriptions, nor any matching local records of anyone around his age. Their best guess was he was from out of town and just passing through. So they had put forth requests for information from the next biggest towns, north and south of where they currently where as well as from Chicago, just in case. The police officers mumbled apologies and promised they were making every effort to find out where his car was and piece together what’d happened that night. Baffled, he’d just stared at them until they explained they thought it had been a car-jacking. Body shows up with no transportation, no identification, no memories - must have been a trauma that got away.

It made logical sense but still, it left him dazed and horrified because what did he do now? There was no home waiting for him, no job, no money, no clothes, no name, nothing. The doctors had seen signs of injury to his brain but couldn’t give him a definite answer as to when his memories would start to come back. Instead, they gave him some numbers of psychologists, apartment rental services, and their very best wishes.

“You could um, if you wanted, I could use … “ The former angel jumped, having forgotten Harry’s presence until now, but he seemed to grow bolder under his gaze. “I live by myself. I have a moderate salary. There’s the guest room that you stayed in last night but I don’t really ever have any guests. I could use some help with the house and with my profession. I could hire you as like, my assistant/maid if you uh, while you recuperate. If you want. Until you find somewhere to go?”

The fallen angel blinked a few times. It was something not one of the people he’d encountered today would have offered him, so why was Harry? There were no warnings, no twinges of discomfort, nothing that said he shouldn’t take the offer, besides the small voice in the back of his head that wondered if that’s how he ended up at the edge of Harry’s fields to begin with. Nobody had seemed to recognize him though, and everyone had reacted with genuine smiles and happiness whenever they saw Harry - literally everyone from the girls in striped dresses to the oldest meanest looking nurse to the serious police officers. Everyone seemed to love him.

“Thank you.” He decided finally, “I do not know what I would have done. I will work as hard as I can I am a very good worker. I know that much.”

Harry just beamed and jumped up from his seat, holding an arm out for the former angel to take. “We’ll shop around town real quick if you’re up to it. Get you some clothes that fit and food you don’t hate and we’ll just consider it your first week’s pay, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Excellent. Zayn’s going to love you.”

#

Zayn, as it turned out, was tall, tiny, and _terrifying_. Possibly the most terrifying person the fallen angel had yet to encounter, ever. He’d bestowed air-kisses to both of them before physically pulling him away from Harry to stand him up on a little circle. Then spent the next thirty minutes muttering to himself as he moved the ex-angel’s body around, occasionally wrapping things around various parts of him and shouting out numbers, for presumably Harry to write down. The ex-angel had no idea what was going on, but before he could plead for a rescue he was being shoved into a little room with an actual mountain of clothing tumbling over the top of the door and strict demands to come out after each piece was on. For a long moment the former angel’d just stood there before a sharp knock on the door had him scrambling to grab the first two things he could reach, pulling them on and stepping out only to be turned around and shepherded right back in with Zayn at his heels, cursing and shaking his head. Zayn would put things on him and just as quickly tear them off again. Harry was running back and forth around the store to get things Zayn shouted for but would pop up to make faces at the fallen angel in the mirror before disappearing again.

It was an experience the fallen angel wanted to never have again.

Still, a request for a couple pairs of pants and some shirts ended up with nearly 13 bags of clothes and that was after he and Harry physically carried some of the bags back into the store. It made the ex-angel wonder what Harry had told his friend, but it was possible that just everyone in his life was as generous as Harry himself was. It would make sense. He just made a solemn promise to go back against his better judgement and try to help the crazy store owner in some way as well to pay back the kindness. Harry stopped the car shortly after leaving Zayn’s making the ex-angel freeze in his seat and turn big sad eyes on Harry.

If that was shopping, he was done, and really really didn’t want to do anymore today.

“No, hey. I thought we’d grab something to eat. I promise Niall is nothing like Zayn and you’ll love him, okay? I’m so sorry I put you through that and didn’t warn you. Zayn is Zayn, but he grows on you. You’ll see.”

The ex-angel sincerely hoped he wouldn’t, but he let Harry pull him from the car under the very serious promise of an excellent cup of tea.

There was a blond that was ducking around a large counter and running up to them in alarmingly similar fashion to Zayn, causing the ex-angel to take a startled step back. Harry’s hand on his back kept him from retreating any further and he couldn’t help the small huff that realization caused.

“Oi! ‘Arry. Nice to see ya again, mate. And ye must be… “

So he had warned his friends, the former angel noted but still held out a careful hand like they had at the hospital for him to shake.

“His stray. Hello. I was promised an excellent cup of tea. Do you know where I would find that?”

“This one don’t mince his words, does he?” Large blue eyes were eyeing him rather closely then and the former angel tried to take another step back before Niall cursed and smacked at Harry’s chest. “You took him to Zayn’s first! Ya never take anyone straight there, Styles. Christ, have I taught you nothin’. C’mere lad. I’ll fix ya a cuppa. And some food too. M’sure yer starvin’ after that hell.”

Despite himself, the former angel felt his lips doing that tugging thing again as he followed the blond until he was given a seat at the counter and found himself face to face with a moving type of picture. Transfixed, he stared at it long enough he didn’t notice Harry taking the seat next to him or the cup of tea set in front of him until something made him jump and he nearly upset it.

“Sorry. I am sorry.” He glanced at Harry to the box and back to Harry again with a million questions he didn’t even know how to begin to ask. Harry was just watching him with those wide patient eyes and somehow that made him feel worse. Nobody else was giving the box the same startled wonder he was and he was already tired of how much he didn’t know or understand. He must have, once. Dropping his head, he curled his hands around his mug and felt Harry’s warm hand on his back, gently rubbing circles there before Niall was popping back up with more plates than the fallen angel could figure out how he carried.

“Haz here is a shit cook. So I’m gonna box up whatever you don’t want and you can take it home with you. What looks good?”

The fallen angel looked back at Harry again who just shrugged and mumbled they were all good and that was helpful. So he turned to Niall instead and got a plate of something vaguely yellow-ish with little white things set in front of him.

“A curry. Trust me, you can never go wrong with a good curry.”

The fallen angel’s taste buds didn’t quite agree, being a little too busy being on fire and everything after his first bite. His eyes went wide, mouth open to try to get the offending sauce off his tongue, much to the amusement of his two companions. Harry shoved his water towards him and he sipped it thankfully, eyeing the food now with distrust as the blond sputtered off apologies.

“Sorry! It takes some getting used to I s’pose. Let me get you some ice cream. Can’t go wrong with that.”

The ex-angel tried to protest but neither would listen and at least the bowl of questionably hard or soft cream apparently looked fairly harmless. The first tiny bite went okay and after a couple he decided he liked the green one best but just as he’d reached the last little mound his head exploded.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he chanted, gripping his head, once again sending Harry and Niall into giggles.

“He’s adorable, Harry," Niall said as he jumped up to pat the ex-angel on the back. “Can I keep him?”

Startled, the fallen angel looked up between the two, not sure why the idea upset him so much but finding himself gaping at Harry all the same.

“Nope. Sorry. No can do, Nialler. But if you uh, wouldn’t mind getting him a tea to go, I should probably take him home before he swears off food forever.”

“Ow.” He chirped in pointedly looking up at Harry, but was just rewarded with a bright grin and a ruffle to his hair. It didn’t take long for the blond to come back with a warm cup he was passing over along with his sincerest apologies and promises to make the next time much more enjoyable. The fallen angel wasn’t sure about that, but he just nodded and said thank you and goodbye a couple times for good measure until Harry was steering him out towards the truck again. A little more confident now he got up into the truck himself and managed to get the seat belt fastened. Harry’s face lit up again and the ex-angel could feel his own doing the same. It didn’t take long for Harry to toss yet another bag in the back and climb up next to him, but he was quieter than the angel’d gotten used to.

“How did —" the angel paused, unsure of what or how to ask what he was wondering. “You come to know Niall? And Zayn.” He added politely after an extended pause, much to Harry’s apparent amusement.

“I was born here. Well, actually there’s a joke that there was a Styles here when the town was founded and been at least one every generation since. My whole family lives close. I met Zayn at college where he was obviously studying fashion though he never had any desire for the high fashion lifestyle. I made the mistake of inviting him here during break once and he’s just never left. Niall showed up a year or two after that, hard to say now. Feels like he’s always been here you know? Or I guess you wouldn’t. Sorry. I’m sorry. He's from Ireland though that's why he sounded different, if that's what you're curious about.”

The fallen angel found himself getting warm and his face was doing that twitchy things but he wasn’t all that sure what to say now. So he just rested his head against the seat, letting his eyes close, and his body give in to the weariness that he’d been carrying all day. He was asleep before they hit the town limits.

#

For all the excitement that had happened quickly after waking up in the forest, life seemed to make up for it by being exceedingly dull in the weeks that followed. As his injuries healed, Harry let him learn more and more about what it takes to be a veterinarian, especially one that specializes in farm animals. It surprisingly had a lot more to do with papers and books and practicing on Dusty than the former angel would have guessed. Still, they’d settled into a routine after week two with Harry making breakfast and then eating it together while going over the newspaper. The ex-angel found this extremely helpful in increasing his vocabulary and his understanding of his world, though he still wasn’t exactly sure how the news came to be. Harry had tried to explain journalists and the like but it still seemed like fortune telling to the fallen angel. From there, depending if Harry had any appointments or not, they’d either hit the books (in the case of a rainy day) or head outside to do some chores (which was really code for play with Dusty), eventually tumble in for food (that they’d agreed to alternate cooking after realizing their skills in the kitchen were about equally matched) before doing something ‘fun’ in the afternoons. It’d been Harry’s idea of course, and his idea of fun involved hitting balls with random things and chasing after it, heading to town, reading, or watching the box. The TV. _Television_. The ex-angel had given up trying to understand that entirely, just how many people could fit in there? Where did they come from? Where did they go? Harry would get all red and wheeze and laugh and laugh at his questions before digging his phone out, which he’d since learned connected to Niall and Zayn, and that was a whole other can of worms he wanted nothing to do with. He’d just accepted that he had a unique ability to make the three of them laugh a lot and Harry swore laughing was the best thing they could do so he was happy he could be that for them.

Zayn still scared him, even though he was around more often than not in the afternoons, and Niall had won him over by introducing him to cereal, which was pretty much his favorite thing ever. Neither him nor Harry could mess that up and it came in so many different types they weren’t even halfway through trying them all yet. It kept things easy and exciting which were both good things, he was coming to find out. Especially in a small town.

Earlier, Harry had asked how he felt about learning how to answer the phones, explaining that he really needed someone to be able to handle his calls while he was with an animal, so the ex-angel was biting his fear of the phone down to help. Except Harry had set a small book next to him and asked him to look through it - see if anything jogged his memory or if he’d like to pick a name out himself just so they could call him something other than the nicknames he’d just now gotten a handle on. The names had been daunting and he had no idea how one was just supposed to pick one so he’d wandered into Harry’s bedroom hoping the other was still awake to share the confusing thoughts with him. Or at least he intended to, but before he even got fully inside the door Harry was blurting out, “Louis. I think you look like a Louis and if you want an opinion on where to start. I’d start there.”

“Louie? L-O-U-E?” the ex-angel had sounded out carefully, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

“L-O-U-I-S. The s is silent and the ‘i’ makes an ‘e’ sound…”

The fallen angel had expressed a not so small amount of distaste for the English language already and that was pretty much the icing on the cake. “Why isn’t it just spelled Loue then? Why have an s that does nothing and an i pretend to be an e? That’s so confusing.”

“Does that mean you hate it?”

“Louis. Louis, Louis. No. I don’t hate it. Do I look like a Louis?”

“You do. Lou for short, like you and the boys call me Haz.”

“I’d get a nickname?”

“Of course!”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Nice to meet you, Louis.”

Harry stuck his hand out and it took the - _Louis-_ to recall the polite thing and wrap his hand around Harry’s shaking it up and down a few times. “This is still so weird. But yes, hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Harry.”

The face twitching smile he got for that was completely worth it and he smiled back easily before picking up the small phone with a grim determined expression. “Green to answer, red to hang up, and if I press the letters, they’ll send a message with the green button,” He recalled, eyeing it in distrust. “You’re buying me new cereal for this, you know.”

“Anything chocolate. I know.”

Louis beamed at him, before the phone vibrated and he dropped it in shock.

“Oops.” Flushing, he scrambled to pick it up again, pushing the 1123 passcode Harry had set for him before reading the message that popped up. “Um, okay. Wait, how do I see - oh Zayn. Zayn wants to know … “ Louis’ eyes went wide and he shoved the phone back at Harry, not at all prepared for the words on the screen and the act they referred to. His cheeks were very, very warm, so he rubbed at them slightly as he squirmed. Harry was doing that thing where he was clearly trying not to laugh and look all solid and comforting, but failing. Still Louis went easily when Harry lifted an arm, curling into his shoulder despite still feeling rather hot. Niall and Zayn had teased him for awhile about his prudishness after an unproductive afternoon of trying to pinpoint his sexuality so they could officially start setting Louis up on dates. Harry’d chosen about that time to show up after birthing cattle or something he didn’t want to scar Louis with and had hit them both upside the head before taking Louis home.

But why would he ever want to be anywhere else? Or with anyone else? Harry had literally given him the clothes off his back and a place to live and a job - why did he need someone other than Harry to share that with? They tried to say he needed someone to make him laugh, and cuddle him, take him out on dates, and he just pointed out Harry did all that. He hadn’t understood their knowing looks and laughs, and Harry had just gotten unusually quiet and pink when he brought it up. Four weeks in and they were all still just as weird as they were when he first met them. He was beginning to suspect it was something that was actually just them and not his own lack of knowledge.

Unfortunately, it’d been an entire month and there wasn’t any leads on who he was, where he’d come from, or where he belonged. They’d talked to their police contact, a young man named Liam Payne, so often in the first week or two, he’d officially became part of their ‘circle’ as the boys called it, coming out to Niall’s bar when they did and joining them on camping trips and the like. After a week Louis could already see the influence the other boys had corrupting the sweet polite little boy and it made him ashamed to be as amused as he was by it.

There was a lot of that though, instinctive guilt and shame that he couldn’t pin down a reasoning for but still felt strongly. They all had agreed he’d had some intensely religious upbringing or something to leave such deep emotions but he was beginning to see that some of those feelings should be questioned and overturned. Like drinking, and boys kissing boys, and the occasional prank to get someone to laugh. All good things and nothing to get torn up about.

Harry was doing that ‘nuzzling’ thing against his head again and Louis squirmed slightly, scrunching up his nose.

“Harold!”

“You got all quiet and disappeared on me again,” he said with a familiar pout, “What’s going on up there?”

“I’m thinking about telling Liam to stop looking,” Louis admitted quietly. At this point what would another name, friends, family mean to him? Maybe he could learn to feel the way he did about Harry, Niall, and Zayn about them eventually - but he had Harry, Niall, and Zayn and he didn’t want that to go away. He didn’t want to live anywhere but here. “If that’s okay and I’m not keeping you from dates and happily ever after and all.”

“Of course not. You can stay here as long as you want, Lou. We can talk to Liam later for now I think I owe you some cereal and a movie? Does that sound good?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Thank you.”

The movie was something ridiculous because Louis let Harry pick it out, but he’d fallen asleep happily squished between the couch and Harry, calm and content in his new life.

#

Out of all the scenarios Louis had pictured about stumbling upon his old family (spotting them in a crowd, running into them at the grocer, feeling an unexplainable urge to go somewhere at some magic time) finding one of them sitting in his kitchen sipping coffee when he wandered down to make Harry and himself tea and cereal was not it. Startled, a sharp yell left his mouth before he twisted, and called for Harry - only the door wasn’t opening under his hands like it always did. Confused, he dropped his hands and put his back to it instead, warily eyeing the older man who was still just calmly sipping at his cup like Louis’ reaction had been entirely expected and playing out exactly as it should.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Louis said finally.

“Imagine my surprise, coming back to find that you had fallen and not only that but also taken up with a rag tag group of young boys. Absolutely scandalous, Camael.”

“Who are you and what do you want?” Louis didn’t know what to do but repeat his questions weakly because none of this was making sense. Harry had explained break ins and robberies to him after he fell into the habit of not locking doors behind himself, but he never once hinted they’d steal _coffee_ , wait to be found and call you funny names.

“You really do not remember?”

His hair shook with the force of his head shake but the older man rose anyway, eyes a disturbingly empty shade of green compared to what he was used to. Louis shrank as much as he could back against the door, ducking his head, and doing everything he knew to suggest compliance and meekness. He didn’t want trouble. The man easily was a foot taller and twice as wide as he was - _what was he supposed to do?_ Rough fingers touched his cheeks, pulling his head up before _things_ started flooding his brain. They didn’t make sense at first, just flashes of images that after some time began to fit a bigger narrative. At some point Louis’ legs had given out and he was half carried half dragged to a chair, the history unfolding in his head literally too much for him to bear. The other angel wasn’t letting up though, wouldn't stop until all the knowledge Louis had lost had been restorted. There was a pause then, when he hit the chair, but then almost involuntarily Louis tugged the next piece out giving his permission to finally let the puzzle be solved.

Camael’s fall.

All there in technicolor like an overly vivid nightmare resting in the forefront of his brain. It didn’t feel real. Angels and heaven and humanity, it was absurd. Had Louis somehow been drugged upon his entrance to the kitchen and this was just his reaction to it? Had he invented the angel, the tragedy, all of it? It was entirely possible he was either still upstairs asleep or sitting at the table staring at nothing at the moment. And holy shit, wasn’t it saying something that both of those were better options than the one that was actually happening.

Except Louis - _Camael_ \- knew the man sitting across from him was called Muriel. He knew the angel held a ranking slightly higher than his own and that he’d once looked up to him as a mentor. How could things of that nature be just a hallucination? So he gave in and disappeared into his own thoughts for awhile, reliving old glories and great shames to gain a feel for his own morality and personality again. His eyes popped open once to inquire what was being done to keep Harry out of the kitchen and immediately regretted the question when that prompted talk of being outside of time and space in a little pocket of something. Apparently he was never going to learn to stop asking questions despite never liking the answers.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed himself upright again to walk to the mock-window over the sink, resting his elbows on the cold metal before glancing out over the idyllic rural scene. He took in the rows and rows of vegetation with hand-built wooden fences and tree tops swaying in the breeze, then comparing that with the view of earth he remembered and found it felt so cold.

“Why did you come here, Muriel?” Camael asked finally, “What did you hope to gain in showing me this?”

“I came to bring you back. To get you reinstated. It was clearly a misunderstanding and you’ve learned the error of your ways. I do not believe it was an intended to be a permanent solution and you have spent quite enough time down here.”

“It was not a solution. It was the next chink in my chain. I was meant to fall, Muriel. Meant to find this town and these boys and this life. This is how it ends for me.”

“I knew it was a mistake the moment you got assigned to the cause and effect squad,” Muriel almost cursed, “There is no such thing as cause and effect. You of all people should know that! There are angels up there making decisions and then enforcing them. That is it. Someone up there decides what happens here and paints a nice little cover story over it, talking about things like fate, and destiny. You are just a cog in a machine, Camael, but you need to come home.”

“I am home.” He paused. “I was home before you brought me…wherever. I would very much like to go back, if you please.”

“Camael…”

“I fell for many reasons, Muriel. Those beliefs are not erased because of some time spent on Earth. I am not miserable here. I am not wanting to go back. I like being human. And you said it yourself up there I’m just a cog in a machine. Down here, I am family.”

“I do not understand.”

“Nor would I expect you to,” Camael turned, smiling sadly as he brought his hands to rest on Muriel’s shoulders. “Our time is past, brother. I hope you go on to achieve many things and find what makes you happy. It is a wonderful thing once you discover it.”

Muriel slapped his hands away as he took a few hurried steps backwards. Anger and betrayal were flashing over his features, both emotions that Camael found he had a greater understanding of now. “You didn’t expect me to say no.” He mused quietly, “Does free will bother you?”

“Does the fact that you’re choosing your wonderful thing over millions of years bother you?” Muriel shot back, his eyes livid. “Your time on Earth has made you selfish and nearsighted. This is but a blink in time. You were here long before this planet and you will be long after - do not do this, Camael. I beg you.”

“Take me back to Harry, please.”

“Is there nothing I can say?”

“You can say goodbye.”

#

Within seconds Camael found himself back on the staircase stumbling into the kitchen again, only this time where Muriel had been patiently waiting before - it was Harry now, bent over a bowl of cereal. Cautiously the former angel paused in the doorway, trying to spot some clue that this wasn’t actually happening, until blue caught green and the younger man burst into that trademark use-every-muscle-in-my-face smile, making Camael forget immediately about anything and everything else.

“Louis! You’re back.” Harry fought back a yawn, “I got worried. There was no tea made, or breakfast, and your room was empty when I went to check and see if you were sick. Not that I expect tea and breakfast but it’s usually there?”

Of course. Mentally, he cursed out Muriel. This was his doing, but he took a step into the kitchen all the same before he froze. Harry would think he’d lost it. Just checked out of the ‘loony bin’ like they say on TV. There was no way of proving or disproving his story beyond Camael himself. And anything he could recite to Harry would sound like it’d come straight some the history texts. Fudge.

“Louis?”

When had Harry gotten up? The taller boy was standing in front of him now, eyes soft and his lips pulled into a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

Okay? What did that mean anymore?

Camael decided to stay silent and instead just took the two steps forward to tuck against Harry’s chest, closing his eyes as he waited for Harry to wrap him up, and just focused on the warmth and familiarity of it all. Nothing in heaven had ever felt like this, but why hadn’t it? Were only humans capable of the stomach-twisting, heart-fluttering, _happiness_ of being so connected to another person? Lips against his hair and Harry’s normal pace of speaking quickening snapped him out of the thoughts. Gently he leaned back so he could meet Harry’s eyes and smile a little.

“My family found me this morning.”

Even though he’d been watching for it - actually observing Harry’s eyes widen and the color leave his face wasn’t pleasant. Camael felt sick and he wasn’t quite sure why as Harry let him go.

“Oh. Well, that’s…that’s good. Right?”

Frowning, Camael glanced at the distance between them and back up at Harry. “I wasn’t done with that hug.” He started with a slight pout before shrugging and moving to make their tea.

“We weren’t on good terms when I left,” he tried, pausing to fill the tea kettle with water before placing it on the stove to heat up and turning around to face Harry again.

“My name’s Camael. My brother who came to find me is Muriel. I remember now.”

“Oh.”

If it was possible, Harry sounded even smaller than he looked folded over at the table. “So um, where do you live?”

As far as Camael was concerned, there was only one way to answer that so he crossed the kitchen and knelt down to take Harry’s hands.

“Here. With you. As Louis. If you’ll have me.”

“ _What?_ ”

Camael winced, but squeezed Harry’s hands, “I’m older than I look. I’ve been many places and seen many things but none of them have ever felt like this. You make me laugh, you keep me safe, you keep me curious and adapting and warm. I just … I feel so warm around you. Does that make sense?”

Harry was laughing now and that was far preferable to the ashen grey face he’d been sporting a minute ago.

“You make me feel warm too, Lou. Or - “

“Lou. Lou’s perfect. I don’t want to change anything. And I really don’t want to give the boys all the ammo ‘Camael’ would bring them.”

There was that laugh again and now Louis was smiling.

“Do you wanna talk about? Where you came from, where you’ve been? I’m not a half-bad listener.”

“I want to make breakfast and I want to go back to bed and watch sappy movies that make me cry until Zayn and Niall are off work and then I wanna go do something fun.”

“We can do that.”

“Good. Which cereal was that?”

“Corn flakes. But I left the rest of the box of Lucky Charms for you.”

“You spoil me and I love it. Thank you, Curly.”

Louis grinned as he squeezed Harry’s hands one more time before getting up to steep the tea and pour his own bowl of breakfast. Or at least that’d been the plan. He got as far as adding hot water into the tea infuser before there were large hands on his waist gently turning him around and bracing him against the countertop. The right one rose to his jaw, tilting his face up more and then Harry’s mouth was on his. Clearly Louis had no concept of cold and warm because what he felt now was nowhere near what he’d considered ‘warm’ before. Wait. This was kissing. He’d asked Harry countless questions after seeing it happen in movie after movie. What was he supposed to do back?

Harry was breaking the contact between their mouths, though his forehead still rested on Louis even as he laughed.

“I can actually feel you thinking. Stop it. Just let yourself feel, alright? Unless you want me to stop?”

“No,” Louis said immediately, “Don’t stop. Do it again. I’m ready.”

Harry was still laughing even as he brought his mouth back to Louis’ but that’s alright because he was laughing too and it didn’t take long for the laughter to fade as they got lost in the kiss. It was easy once he stopped thinking and blindly followed Harry’s lead. And he would have happily kept it going but Harry pulled away, laughing again when Louis tried to followed his mouth anyway and found himself stuck and unable to reach.

“Hmpf.”

“You’re adorable. Do you know that? Adorable and beautiful and I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time but I wasn’t sure -“

“If I wanted you to? I do. In fact, let’s skip the movie and the boys and just keep doing that all day.”

“Your lips and mine couldn’t handle that, love. How about you eat, we’ll put a movie in, and when it ends we’ll force ourselves apart and go meet up with the boys.”

Louis thought about it before frowning. “They have a bet on this, don’t they?”

“More than likely.”

“Who wins if we tell them today?”

“Niall said the first week, Zayn said within a month - less if he got to dress us, and Liam refused to partake in said shenanigans.”

“So…you.”

“I said I’d wait until you had your memories back and could decide for yourself without any obligation or guilt or lack of other options or anything else. I wanted to be sure. I wanted you to be sure.”

“…Does this make me Allie?”

“Yes. Yes. This makes you the Allie to my Noah and I love you for making that connection.”

Thinking about fate and destiny, Louis reached up to gently trace over Harry’s face. “Do you believe in angels?”

“I didn’t. Not until you walked into my life.”

Harry hadn’t meant to be that accurate about it but it still made Louis warm and push up impatiently on his tiptoes.

“Kiss me again.”

“Whenever you want.”

#

It happened about a year later.

Louis and Harry had gotten a little too tipsy at Niall’s bar and were immediately put out on the streets for “Oi, mates! Never needed to see that and never want to see that. Out, out, out! Happy fer ya. Use protection!” Louis had gotten quite experienced with sex jokes and innuendoes now and discovered a particularly dark thrill for using them on Harry in public places until he snapped. Which was how he ended up flat on his back in the woods in a remarkably familiar clearing with Harry nearly asleep beside him. Glancing around, his fuzzy mind eventually connected the dots and he gasped, flipping around to sprawl out on Harry’s chest and wake him up.

“You sap. Wake up!”

Harry’s eyes just fluttered so Louis kept poking him until he grabbed Louis’ hands and rolled them over, effectively trapping them between their bodies.

“Excuse you.” Louis pouted, but Harry was too busy nuzzling sleepily into his neck to see it. “Hey. Harold. Seriously, look up a minute. Look where we are.”

“Sticky.”

“This is where I fell.”

The words just sort of came out. Louis didn’t even realize their significance too distracted by the nostalgic reminiscing.

“You aren’t the most graceful person ever after a few,” Harry mumbled sleepily, drawing him out of it but not enough to censor his thoughts.

“No, you twat. From heaven.”

Harry stiffened and then he was rolling off Louis with giggles that the former angel decided to just ignore as he stared up at the stars and thought about fire. It didn’t take very long for Harry to realize he was the only one laughing and Louis just waited silently for the question to form in his mind, the doubt, and finally the logic to click in when it all fell into place.

“You were an angel. An actual angel? Holy shit. I fucked an angel, I’m going to hell.”

 _That_ made Louis start to laugh and he rolled over onto his side to tug his boy in closer.

“You never met me as anything other than entirely human and it’s perfectly alright to have wicked relations with me. Your soul’s more in danger from your bad jokes, to be honest.”

“Louis!”

“What? I’m just being honest.”

Harry had stared at him for a few more seconds before wrapping himself around Louis and demanding answers to a hundred and one questions about heaven and earth and why hadn’t he said anything before until Louis reminded him that one of the perks of Earth was mattresses and blankets.

From there it didn’t take long for Harry to lose steam and drop off in the cocoon of blanket and Louis, but the ex-angel held on a little longer. This was what was missing upstairs. A floppy haired, ridiculous, sexy boy who loved without boundaries or conditions. He wondered idly if Muriel understood now. He wasn’t entirely sure he did, but he did know given the chance, he would fall every time, if Harry was there waiting in the clearing.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to ot4 sass squad. And another for everyone who made it this far.  
> If you have comments, questions, concerns feel free to hit me up at [my tumblr.](http://jfc-theseboys.tumblr.com)


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